It Hurts So Good

Uh, no it doesn't. It just hurts.

Jon recently described his experiences with ART (Active Release Techniques) as visiting the House o' Pain ... well Jon, I know what I like, and not only isn't it ART, it also isn't PT (metaphor breaking down here), in the form of deep-tissue "massage." Let's just say I've had more relaxing massages. Like I think if someone took me outside and beat me up? That would be more relaxing.

I've gone three times this week. The gal working on me—or rather, working me over—is about 14-years-old. And strong. Very very strong.

She does a deep-tissue massage of my ITB (which I'm still not sure is the problem) that is mind-blowingly, Lamaze-breathing-causingly painful, for several hours (about 15 minutes). To her credit though, she did tell me that more guys than gals end up crying from it (but we gals already knew that). Hearing that was some small comfort. Small.

The funny thing is, after the intense pain she inflicts I can actually walk better—my leg holds and doesn't buckle. Then we start the stretching and exercising, of which there are about 50 of each ("hold for 30 seconds, both sides, repeat"), followed by electrical stim and ice.

Whew.

My "running" this week:
Tuesday: Elliptical: 50 minutes
Thursday: Elliptical: 45 minutes because I started out on the dreaded horrible treadmill for five minutes, and couldn't do it. My 14-year-old dominatrix physical therapist is discouraging me from runnning outdoors, but the dreadmill seems worse to me. Or has the potential to hurt worse. Or maybe I'm just scared of it.

And in between, I'm stretching my brains out. (OK, legs. ITB. Whatever. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to. OK??!!)

Anyway, I can feel the fitness leeching from my body. Tomorrow (Saturday) is one of our three last "taper" runs before the big M (although I've done nothing BUT taper): eight miles, outside.

So I'm gonna go for it, even though I've done no running since last Saturday's mind-blowing 26 miles. (Did I mention that I ran 26 miles?? Just checking.)

I have no idea if I even remember how to run.

Good luck to Susan tomorrow! And to everyone running Chicago—knock 'em dead.

Row, Like It's Your Job

I totally forgot while writing last night's OPUS, that Number One Daughter also had a race yesterday, her first of the season (God, I am worthless as a parent). The Head of the Ohio, in Pittsburgh, where her boat came in 6th (of 14) and 2nd (of 4). Don't ask me to explain, rowing is the most complicated sport on earth. Apparently that is a really good finish. Little NOD's eight came in at 16:08.119 (that would be 16 MINUTES). This is what they train for all year round and drive hundreds of miles to participate in, these sprints that no spectator can see without CIA-type binocs, and, if you sneeze, you missed it. Still, i like to go to them. (God, I am such a good parent!).

Don't think I didn't mention to my running partners yesterday that my daughter was in a race too, a race that would take oh, approximately 15 minutes, while her mother was busy killing herself for six hours!!

NOD turns 19 on Monday. Happy Birthday little NODDIE!

Run/Walk?

(left): The End.

Ok, so whoever invented this method? Is. A. Genius. Thank you Mr. Galloway!

It was awesome and I kicked butt. (Well, in Jeanne's world, I kicked butt.)

Let's start Friday night. My friend, R., suggested I watch an inspirational movie, which I did: "Touching the Void." (You want ouch? Watch this movie. You have no idea.) Got to bed at 10:30 (little later than I'd hoped, but there was so much to prepare, it was really ridiculous.)

Got to the site at 6 a.m., half hour before I needed to, so I listened to a few tunes in the car (Midnight Oil, and Indigo Girls) til it was time to walk to the site. It was pitch black, the stars were still out. I peed in the bushes (you knew I would). I got up at 4:45 a.m. to do, you know, that other thing, which sadly, did not happen.

All the National AIDS Marathon Training Groups in D.C. (there are four sites, I think) came together for this pretend (ha ha, how many times can I say "pretend" when referring to a real, honest-to-God TWENTY-SIX mile run? We'll see), marathon, which took place outside of D.C., in East Falls Church, on the W &OD trail, which is a converted train track. (For you history buffs, see a Washington Post story about this 45-mile trail.)

My friend, R. God bless her, came to wish me well and see me off. She's responsible for me getting involved in all this nonsense. Thanks R.!!

The trail is long, straight, hilly, largely treeless, hot, hot hot, and not all that interesting, and oh yes, hilly. (Did I mention we've done zero hill workouts? Bad bad bad.)

Ok, here's the short version:

It took me 6 hours and 9 minutes. Which result, since I had planned on seven hours, I am thrilled with.

And even better, did my knee/thigh/calf hurt? They did not. Well, right leg hurt a bit during the first 2-3 miles, and my pace group, which I like to think I have had some small hand in training, kept asking me was I ok. How awesome is that. That, my friends, is the real victory (no, it's not really). Still. Nice. But after three miles? My leg was fine. (I did take ibuprofen beforehand, and then during, so that may have helped, but mostly it was that awesome brace, I think.)

So what did hurt, you ask? Around maybe mile 15, the soles of my feet started hurting. My shoes are ever-so-slightly too big; to compensate I tie my laces super-tight. Oh what a good idea.

We ran 2/walked 2 (minutes, not miles) for a long long long way. This was a training run and speed was most definitely discouraged. Fantastic support! We had tons of AIDS Marathon staff, plus tons of volunteers, riding bikes back and forth (it was a very busy trail), plus aid stops every two miles, and the volunteers all had a different "theme" at each aid station (don't ask me, I can't remember anything except one group wearing giant playing cards). Whatever; it was fun, water, gatorade, food was plentiful.

I hung at the back of our small pace group of seven people for quite awhile, running with W., a 50-ish gal with a few college-aged kids. She was struggling. She'd forgotten her water belt, so had to carry her bottle, plus had a clip on thing for her belt, which had to go on her shorts, since no water belt, and which was pulling her shorts down. Plus newish shoes. Ah, that's three too many things to cope with. Around mile 11 (?) she told me to go ahead, she just couldn't run anymore (my miles are all off, I have no idea what mile it really was.) By then, our pace group was long gone. Then, (oh, i love love love this part!!) I hooked up with a faster group (a minute per mile faster!) and they were doing a run 3/walk 2 ratio, and I hung on with them til I met up with my group again, around mile 14.

So I ran with my group, for oh I dunno, a few DAYS, and then about mile 21, I got my mojo back (which in my delirium, I called MO-HO—I told you, I am a nerd). And I took off (well, took off for me, remember, it's all relative) and left my group behind. They were walking up the hills, I was running up them!!

Look at me!!! I amazed myself. Because by this point, my dogs were a-barking. No, they weren't barking, they were howling and growling.

Around mile 23, I switched back to a 3/2 ratio, and kept it going, despite feet which now felt like they were literally on fire, when lo, suddenly, there was the finale, with a lovely balloon arch, and our coaches giving us medals!! (We all got medals, we are all heroes!!) and the best PB&J sandwiches I have ever had in my entire life.

I was second in my group to come in, the rest got there around 10 minutes later (am I bragging? oh give me my moment!)

I walked around, not out of breath AT ALL (thank you run/walk God!), and my knee still felt fine in its Cho-Pat brace. I literally could not believe how good I felt. Right up until someone suggested I lay down and raise my legs straight up against a tree, which I did, and then: ut-oh.

Imagine someone dousing the soles of your feet with gas and then lighting a match. OR, imagine you are frostbitten and come in to warm up. You know that feeling? Yeah, that, times 2,000. I almost cried, my soles hurt so bad. They were burning, like I didn't think I'd ever walk again, until some other wise person said, uh, maybe your shoes were laced too tight and your feet NEED blood, so put 'em down.

So, unlaced shoes, brought feet down and pain immediately lessened. Got home, took ice bath, took two bags of frozen peas which I attached to the bottom of my feet (necessity ... mother of invention, etc.), and settled down for a short 2-hour nap. Right now, at 11:30 p.m., they are still feeling like they have electric currents flowing thru them. Weird, and disconcerting, and yeah, a little painful. Time for Tylenol P.M.!

Plus, I went to dinner at a friend's house and managed to skip a step on his stairs, landing hard on my right leg. So, right leg is all fubar'd again (look it up, little ones). Am icing it like mad, and will see PT on Monday anyway. And oh yeah (cuz this post isn't long enough), I have an enormous bruise at the top of my right foot. Guess laces were a little tight. It's a big bruise. Large.

Moral #1: BUY NEW SHOES, cuz even though these are just four weeks old, they ain't working.

Moral #2? It was an amazing day, and I am so proud of myself, and right now I'm thinking, like WTF, I have to do this AGAIN in four weeks?? Aiyeeeee.

Here's my favorite shot, next to an aptly named creek bed:

See the sign? "Difficult Run."

Yeah. Coulda been a whole lot worse, though.

I'll stop now.

The Bells Are Ringing ... *

Remember me?

The one not with the meniscus tear but maybe ITB syndrome, but I don't really think so?

No running for this gal this week. Instead, I'm mounting the beloved elliptical machine daily, trying to get the cardio in without doing in the leg. So today, I went 3.25 miles in 50 minutes. I'm telling you, one of these days, I'm actually going to end up somewhere. Yesterday, did 45 minutes. Tomorrow, another 50 minutes. ...and then Saturday? Oh, 26 mile run. With the lovely Cho-Pat^® knee brace.

In the meantime, as a backup, I've developed a new passion:
hand-bell ringing. So it's pretty much official now: I'm a nerd. I had lesson number two tonight. We played My Country 'Tis of Thee, and She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain. Real hand-bell ringing crowd pleasers. Now I just have to learn chords, notes, keys, how to read music, oh and how to ring bells (it's not as easy as it looks), and I'll soon be playing Bach cantatas. I should be ready for my debut in a few years. And it sure beats fighting with Doubleclick code for six hours straight (that would be at work today).

Still, it's always good to have a fallback plan, as your mothers all taught you. My mother told me I could always be a secretary if I learned how to type. And for once, I took her advice. I have to say, if there is ONE skill I learned in high school that I use every single day of my life, including right this minute, it's typing!! Mothers know best. Of course, there are no more secretaries. But still.

Anywho, if I tank at this running thing, watch for my new blog: "Not Born to Ring."

So, I'm just checkin' in. This entry is really lame, kind of like my leg. Ha. I'm just very busy trying not to think about What Lies Ahead.

****
*Words by Edgar Leslie and E. Ray Goetz, music by George W. Meyer 1917. Recorded by Judy Garland, and even Dean Martin. Caution: Click here at your own risk. High annoyance factor.

Diagnosis: Do Run Run Run*

Saw orthopod this morning: No meniscus tear (I so wanted to say I told you so, but restrained myself); no stress fracture.

New diagnosis: ITB syndrome ("just a touch") and "runners' knee": a twofer!

Rx: Physical therapy. Sidenote: I first saw this doc on Sept 12 and asked him could I get started on PT, but he wanted to wait a week, see how I did, which was terrible, and then he wanted an MRI, which took another week. It is now Sept 26, and all this time I could have been getting physical therapy. grrr. (Why oh why won't doctors listen to me?? I guess that "md" behind my name (not) doesn't count for much.)

And first opening the PT has is next Monday, Oct 3, so another lost week. But the kind receptionist said I can call every morning to see if there's been a cancellation that day. Which means I have to drive into work every day, instead of taking the bus, and be ready to split on a moment's notice, thereby endearing me to my colleagues even more.

Sigh.

Dr. G said, resume running, wear brace, do the 26-mile practice marathon on saturday. Then he said, see me right before the marathon, and if it's still not better, we can try a cortisone shot. (Yeah, I've read all the pros and cons of that treatment.)

So I am deliriously happy I do not need surgery, and it is not a meniscus tear (I told you so, Dr. G) and what I am wondering now, is: Why do I feel like crying? Girls. Sheesh.)

****

*The Crystals, 1963, Billboard #3: "Da doo ron-ron-ron." Inspired lyrics!

I Bring You Glad Tidings

I ran 10 miles with my group this morning, and this little fella came along for the ride:
(The brace; not the guy in it, though he has nice legs.)

My running store guy picked it out for me. I wore it all day yesterday, and it really helped, even though I was just walking around the office.

Today, I had it on so tight I thought I'd cut off my circulation, but it did the job. I have a bit of pain now with it off, but cross fingers, don't think I made anything worse.

So running! Yes! Today it was gray and cool out, very Fall-like. Perfect weather. There are two giant events happening on your national Mall today: the peace march, and the Library of Congress' annual book sale. On our way out, we passed about 270 thousand media trucks with their satellite antennae poking out, all lined up right between the White House and the Washington Monument. Sort of surreal with no people there and nothing to film but each other. On the way back the busloads of protesters began arriving and we started having to dance around them to get by.

And if I were not a total slug, I would drag myself back to the Mall and go to that book sale. But too hard to drive cuz all the streets are closed off, and Metro will be too crowded and anyway i have my PERIOD and a nice headache to go with it, if you must know. (God, you're so relentless!)

Our run this morning: 2 hours: 11 minutes. Which is just fine and dandy with me. Next Saturday is our "pretend" marathon, in a new location, cuz all the AIDS Marathon groups are coming together for this event. I'm still mad that I missed the 23-miler, which was our last run on the Crescent Trail, and would have kinda been good preparation for 26 miles, but oh well. I am now very hopeful that the doctor will say tomorrow, "Oh you just strained your whosis, just run backwards for a week, and you'll be fine."

Yeah.

Am very anxiously awaiting news from Stephanie. Thought of her during entire run this morning. Isn't it funny how close you can feel to someone you've never met?

Yeah.

All News, All the Time

This just in: Friday, 12:41 p.m.: Ed From the Doctor's Office called; stress fracture ruled out; possible meniscus tear (we knew that, but ok); they have to wait for radiologist's report and Monday's exam to know for sure; MRI showed slight fluid buildup in knee; but go ahead and run this weekend, unless it hurts too much, then don't; and yes, wear a compression sleeve if you feel like it.

I am taking this as good news!!!

First Things First

Left: Yours truly and James Carville reminisce about old times at the Gulf Coast Relief 5K. (I'm much skinnier in real life.)

Here is a link to a snapfish album of the day, so you can get see the all the thrills, chills, and spills of the whole D.C. RBF gang meet up (so far, that would be me and Naomi, although there is talk of a surprise third making a Veteran's Day run with us. If I still have a leg by then. ha). I think you have to create an account to see this album, but it's free. You don't want to miss these exclusive photos!

The update: Stephanie is running forward with courage on Saturday!! Whoo hooo! Very exciting and all good wishes pouring her way.

My "running" update: I haven't been. Not since my aborted attempt on Monday. It's amazing how precious the ability to run becomes when you can't. But when you can, it can be such a burden. In fact, I vaguely recall hating running. Such is life, I guess. But good news: I'm getting better on the elliptical! Tuesday: 45 minutes got me 2.54 miles; Thursday, 45 minutes got me 2.90 miles! Maybe if I keep going eventually I will get someplace. My leg felt a bit better after today's session, but I am still limping and I still have pain when that leg bears weight, which somehow I don't think is a good sign.

TMMI (Too much medical information, but here it is:) I saw the podiatrist yesterday and he said: New orthotics and new shoes definitely did not cause this. Then, because it was 8 a.m. and I guess he likes to get a head start on making people cry, he said "This sounds like a meniscus tear. That's a career-ender." To which, to my credit, I said, "Hey!! Please don't say that" you horse's ass, like you know, because you don't, and great going bucking me up. Minus that last part. I did say "I really wish you hadn't said that." Probably several times. And then I said, "The orthopedist actually does not know yet what it is yet, and i'm having an MRI on Thursday" you stupid goon. And this guy has been a runner for 30 years! OK, even I know that if it is a meniscus tear, it might mean surgery, probably orthoscopic (probably invented after he went to medical school), and recovery, but it doesn't have to be the "end" of my budding running career. Nice job stamping all over my fragile self, buster.

I had actually typed out all my runs and dates and symptoms and put stars next to when I got new shoes, new inserts and new pain and then I reviewed it with him, which is very unlike me, because I am usually a wimp around doctors. Apparently, I am highly motivated. He was impressed. Hey, *I* was impressed. So footwear issues have been ruled out.

Tonight I had an MRI of my right knee, which I found so restful that I actually fell asleep and was annoyed when the tech woke me. (If you've ever had an MRI, it has a drill-hammer quality to it, as in, there's a drill hammer going off inside my head. And the room is kept at a comfortable 45 degrees F.) And I fell asleep. So that was good. Now if only I could learn to do that in my bed. At night. When it's quiet.

Tomorrow: I drop off MRI films at orthopedist first thing in the morning; I don't see him til Monday morning, but his very kind assistant, Ed, said to call on Friday and maybe they could tell me something over the phone. My big question: Can I/should I run/walk with my group 10 miles on Saturday? Please? It's been three weeks since my last long run. And can I/should I wear some kind of brace or sleeve or something on Saturday? Or could I possibly cause more damage. Remember it's run 3 min./walk 1 min. So I'm hopeful.

And after having read tons of info, it seems like heat is what is called for at this point, after the acute phase of the injury. Whatever. I'm doing all of it, ice, easy stretching, heat, epsom salt bath, and positive thinking. We'll see what happens tomorrow.

Injury, Part 23

I am so sick of hearing myself talk about it, I can only imagine how painful it must be having to read about it. So feel free to skip the next few entries. But, I do have a sworn duty to document every single detail of this marathon. Far be it from me to shirk from duty.

My Plans for This Week:

Wed., a.m.: See podiatrist, grab him by the throat and make him compare old shoes vs. new shoes, old inserts vs. new inserts, and tell me if changing either or both of those could have caused all this nonsense.
Wed., next: Stop by orthopedist and pick up knee x-rays from last week.
Wed., rest of day: attend this thing called "work."
Wed., p.m.: elliptical like hell.
Thursday., a.m.: elliptical, etc...
Thursday p.m.: Get MRI. Give MRI people knee x-rays (dunno, they want them). Pick up MRI films and knee x-rays.
Friday: Rest day (from what, I'm not sure).
Saturday: Load up on ibuprofen and try to run 10 miles with group. Very very slowly.
Sunday: Buy new old shoes (larger version of shoes I ran with from April - August; switched brands in August--right before the troubles started--when they didn't have my size.) Oh, and meet up with college roommate from Boston!!
Monday: See orthopedist; he will rule out stress fracture, and everything else, because doctors never find anything wrong with me, and finally he will give me the f'n prescription for physical therapy!!!

And the good news?? Finally, a new episode of LOST tomorrow night.

And thanks to all of you for all the good vibes and advice. Crossing fingers and toes. And hamstrings.

So Frustrated!!!

So y'all, I've been dealing with this right knee/back of calf/now outside of knee/ now hamstring thing pretty much since Sept. 3, my last long slow run. I ran the 5k on saturday, i ran twice last week (just 3 and 4 miles), with no pain during run and some afterwards, but long after, like at night.

On Sunday, after Saturday's 5k, I woke up and could barely walk, but forced myself for a 30 minute walk, during which I hobbled like john wayne.

This morning, my leg didn't feel so bad, so I thought I'd try a 4-miler, slooow. After 1.5 miles, I had to call it quits and walked back. Intense pain, now mostly on outside of right knee, and hamstring. oh, and other places since my stride is all off now.

Called sports doc back this morning not to see him, but to get a referral to a sports PT; my insurance says I don't need a referral from a doc, but the state of MD says i need a prescription from a doc. SO i am trying to sidestep actually seeing the doc again, and just have his asst tell him to WRITE ME THE F'N script already so i can see someone tomorrow. First call at 9 a.m; 2nd call at 2:30 (both times 20 minute holds, yeah i know i'm not the most important person in the world...) and receptionist just told me ONCE again that the doctor's assistant will call me...WHEN HE CAN. And she was all annoyed with me.

So I know i've got nothin' on Stephanie, cuz I've got about 5 1/2 weeks to go, but i've got my own little freak out going on. I think that doc was just wrong about the meniscus tear and now i want to see a pt who actually runs. and i'm seeing podiatrist on thursday which i will try to change to tomorrow bcs it's seems incredibly coincidental that two weeks after I got my $500 custom-made orthotics, which I took out slowly, as this running podiatrist cautioned me, that all this s***t started happening.

So i'm in major bummer land, and now am thinking maybe I just can't do it--the M thing. And for the first time in my life, that i can remember, I was feeling so happy and good and proud of myself.

sorry, no jokes today. END RANT